


Broken Record

by bookishascanbe



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: M/M, Mentions of Harassment, Slow Burn, This is, a stripper/bodyguard au, and when i say slow burn, hello, its me, so the rating is subject to change
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-16
Updated: 2020-12-30
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:01:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,201
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26501065
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bookishascanbe/pseuds/bookishascanbe
Summary: Yahaba is an unlucky stripper, who gets a little lucky...
Relationships: Kyoutani Kentarou/Yahaba Shigeru
Comments: 23
Kudos: 54





	1. you met me in my dreams

**Author's Note:**

  * For [volleydorkscentral](https://archiveofourown.org/users/volleydorkscentral/gifts).



> this first chapter post is a birthday present for me and a surprise gift for crystal, my mom and my inspiration/idol

Yahaba sat in the worn in old chair in the worn in old office. He'd sat in a chair like this in an office like this four times. This was it. He's have to find a new club, and a new city, and everything would be so unsettling.

He picked at the threadbare chair, feeling nerves settling in his stomach the longer he remained waiting for someone to say _something._

What happened wasn't a big deal, it was an occupational hazard. He didn’t provoke the man, no matter what that liar said. He was _literally_ just doing his job. 

His eyes rolled over the wads of cash stacked high on the table between them, there was easily a couple hundred/thousand there. Even though the walls were thick, in this office they felt like paper, and he felt like sand in an hourglass, waiting patiently for his last grain to run out as he watched, almost dissociated, as the club's patrons came and went, the music still played, the old photos of dancers both past and present hanging limply on red papered walls. Finally his eyes settled on his own photograph. 

And finally. His boss spoke. "I think you should have a bodyguard." 

This was new. “A bodyguard?” He repeated, looking up at his boss. Iwaizumi nodded. 

“A bodyguard. This is one of the better establishments in the area, but we still get a lot of creeps, unfortunately, and the security here can only do so much when you’re not in the building or on the premises, and you tend to have a lot of the… creepier customers, so Oikawa and I thought it might be best if you had a personal bodyguard.” 

Yahaba pressed his fingers into his throat, mind racing through his finances and expenses. “Sir, I can’t afford a bodyguard. Not with rent and groceries and-” 

Iwaizumi waved his hand dismissively. “Oh, we’re not going to ask you to pay for something we’ve suggested. Oikawa and I will have you pay about half, and the rest will be added into security expenses for the club since most of the guard’s work will be done here, at the club.”

Yahaba’s mouth opened and closed a few times as he stuttered around words. Finally, he managed to get _something_ out. “Only half? And you’re not going to take the rest out of my paycheck?”

Iwaizumi rolled his eyes. “I keep telling you that Seijoh isn’t like your past places. We actually do give a shit about your safety. You’re doing this to make a living, and anyways, if you’re paying half then isn’t it technically already coming out of your paycheck?”

Yahaba sat in stunned silence for a moment. “Thank you…” he said, a little distant, still a little unbelieving that his bosses actually cared about him. All his past bosses hadn’t cared about anything but making money off their dancers, even if it meant forcing them into uncomfortable positions and situations. Yahaba had stormed out of more than one club because of his inability to make himself uncomfortable. 

“Do you want to pick your bodyguard, or do you want me and Oikawa to do it?” 

Yahaba cleared his throat. “Just pick a scary one. Thank you again, to you and Oikawa-san.” 

Iwaizumi grinned at him. “Will do. Oikawa has a guy in mind, comes from the same company as Mattsun, so he’s trustworthy. Go ahead and get back out there, make some money tonight. Kunimi said it’s a good crowd tonight.” 

“Oh yeah, I think it’s a holiday or something, we’re bustling tonight,” he said as he stood up and walked to the door. He paused at the door, hand on the knob. “Really, thank you so much, Iwaizumi-san.” 

Iwaizumi made a shooing motion. “It’s really nothing, trust me.” 

Yahaba nodded and left the office, but Watari was standing right outside the door, so close that when he spoke it startled him. 

"So?"

"Fuck, Watari, you scared me."

Watari shook his head. “Sorry. So? Are you in trouble or somethin’?”

Yahaba shook his head. “No, Iwaizumi-san and Oikawa-san want me to have a personal bodyguard, probably because of the incident last week. I really did get lucky with that bus driver.” 

Watari patted Yahaba’s shoulder blade. “I’ll fuckin’ say. You really have the worst luck with customers sometimes. I agree with them, you should have a personal guard.” 

“You make it sound like I need the Secret Service or something, just for me.” 

Watari’s mouth twisted. “With all the shit you’ve been through since I’ve known you? You probably really do.” Yahaba scoffed. “Who are they givin’ you?”

“Dunno. Iwaizumi-san said Oikawa-san had someone in mind. Someone from Matsukawa-san’s company. I… trust them not to completely fuck me over.” 

Watari raised an eyebrow at the admission of Yahaba’s hard-won trust but smiled nonetheless. “Well, if they’re from Matsukawa-san’s company, they’ll be well trained. Or maybe that’s just Matsukawa-san.” 

“I am pretty good,” Matsukawa said from Watari’s other side as they came out of the hallway behind the bar, making Yahaba jump again. “But if Oikawa’s looking at the guy I think he’s looking at, you’re in for a real treat, Creampuff.” 

Yahaba wrinkled his nose at his Seijoh-assigned stage name. His previous one had been too “distasteful” for Oikawa’s liking, not that _Creampuff_ was much better. “Really? Why’s that?” 

Matsukawa smirked. “Y’know? I think I’ll let you see that one for yourself. I’m sure you’ll have a heyday with him.” 

Yahaba side-eyed him. “Okay… I wish I could say this was out of the ordinary for you, but it’s really not. As long as he’s not like… a murderer or something I don’t particularly care.” 

Matsukawa cackled. “I promise he’s not a murderer. He’s really pretty nice once you get to know him.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Famous last words. Matsukawa could not have been more wrong. This guy was a brick wall with a layer of steel in the middle. Yahaba turned an incredulous look onto Oikawa, who simply beamed back. 

“Isn’t he perfect, Yaha-chan? Kyouken-chan is a force to be reckoned with, he’s perfect for you!” 

Yahaba scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Jesus Christ. Whatever, I mean as long as he does his job, who am I to argue with your judgment, Oikawa-san.” 

Oikawa clearly chose to ignore the sarcasm in Yahaba’s tone. “Exactly! You two chat a little, you explain what you need him to do, and then Kyouken-chan will go out with you when your shift starts!” With that, Oikawa whirled out of the room and down the hall with a call of, “Iwa-chan!” 

Yahaba narrowed his eyes at “Kyouken-chan.” He was met with an angry glare in response. He was a pretty intimidating looking guy, all beefed up muscle and bleached blond hair and angry eyes. The heavy combat boots, dark slacks, and buttoned up black shirt all added to his intimidating look. He _looked_ like a security guard. “Is that actually your name? Kyouken?” 

His left eye twitched. He didn’t respond.

Yahaba sighed. “Listen, if you hate the nickname, you have to tell me your actual name. Here, I’ll give you mine. It’s-” 

“Kyoutani. Don’t need your name. I’ll just call you Creampuff like everyone else.” His voice was deliciously deep, Yahaba thought; and he had a mild appreciation for how it resonated in his sternum. He wished his voice could go that deep.

Yahaba’s own left eye twitched. “I wish you wouldn’t. I could at least give you my-” 

“No. It’s safer to just call you Creampuff.” 

Yahaba huffed. “Fine, whatever. Anyways, like Oikawa-san said, you’ll be protecting me on and off stage, since I seem to have the unfortunate ability to attract creeps who think it’s fun to follow me home. You’ll follow me home, though, and keep said creeps off my shit so I can live a semi-normal life.” 

Kyoutani grunted with a short nod. “Easy enough.” 

Yahaba made a skeptical sound in his throat. “You say that now.” 

Kyoutani’s eye twitched again. Yahaba sighed and checked his watch. “Oh, well, it’s time for me to go on shift. Just kinda… tail me tonight, I guess? Until you get the hang of it or whatever. If you have any questions you can ask Matsukawa-san since I’ll be working the floor tonight.” 

Kyoutani gave another short nod and yanked the door open for Yahaba. “Got it.” 

He really did have it. Yahaba barely saw him outside of glimpses from the corner of his eye and catching him talking to - _talking to_ \- Matsukawa. His presence was highly noted, however, the first time someone laid a hand on him in a _vaguely_ threatening way. The man grabbed at Yahaba’s wrist and started to pull, only to be stopped by Kyoutani’s hand tight on his shoulder. 

The man got pissy, but one look at Kyoutani’s angry frown had him scurrying off and out the door. Yahaba looked Kyoutani up and down and tilted his head in thanks. Kyoutani shrugged and melted back into the crowd. Yahaba went off in search of his next customer. 

Watari caught him at one point and hissed, “He’s fuckin’ hot, what the hell?” at him before whipping off to the stage. Yahaba shot him a Look, before getting waved over by two older men in business suits. 

“He’ll do, right?” One said to the other, giving Yahaba an up and down look that sent an icky feeling down his spine. 

The other man barely glanced at Yahaba. “Pretty enough. Grab him and let’s go,” he said, and the other man clamped down on Yahaba’s wrist.

Panic flashed through Yahaba’s body and he tried to step back. “Sir, I’m going to have to ask you to take your hands off me, please.” 

The first man tightened his grip. “Why should I listen to you? I paid to see boys being pretty not get backtalk from you.” 

Yahaba tugged at the man’s grip on him. “Sir, you’re hurting me, please let go,” he said, hissing lightly through his teeth at the tight grip. 

“You’ll get paid for it, so stop backtalking,” the second man snapped, as he and his friend yanked Yahaba towards the private rooms. 

Yahaba dug his heels into the carpet, and a whimper slipped when the man yanked him back up to his side. There would definitely be marks on his wrist later. Frantically, Yahaba whipped his head around, trying to catch Matsukawa or Watari’s eye. Watari was nowhere to be seen, and Matsukawa was on the other side of the club - _too far._

There was a jerk and a crack, and suddenly Kyoutani was standing between him and the man, one hand behind him, fingers stretched out towards Yahaba. Yahaba stared blankly at his outstretched fingers before cautiously reaching forward with his uninjured hand. 

Before he could touch Kyoutani’s hand, Iwaizumi’s voice cut through, and he jerked his hand back. “What seems to be the problem?”

“This bitch-” One of the men started, rubbing his head, and Yahaba realized the crack had been his head slamming into the wall.

“I wasn’t speaking to you, sir. Wait your turn. Creampuff? What’s the issue?” 

Yahaba looked up at Iwaizumi and gaped for a second before whispering, “They told me to do something I didn’t feel comfortable doing and didn’t listen when I said no.” 

Kyoutani made a sound deep in his throat that sounded like a growl and took a half-step back to place himself closer to Yahaba. Iwaizumi’s mouth turned up in a sharp grin. 

“You two have been problematic for weeks. This is the final straw. Get your shit and get out. You’re banned,” Iwaizumi said, turning his back on the two men and nodding sharply to Kyoutani. His gaze softened as he faced Yahaba, holding his hand out to inspect the red marks. Yahaba let him look it over, and Iwaizumi scrunched his nose. Kyoutani followed the two men out and immediately came back to Yahaba’s side, just after Iwaizumi went off to find Oikawa to alert him to the new development. 

“Sorry,” he muttered, scanning Yahaba up and down as if checking for injuries. 

Yahaba held his wrist up, showing Kyoutani the reddening fingermarks. “It’s alright. Could I get an ice pack?”

Kyoutani waved his hand, motioning for Yahaba to walk ahead of him. He didn’t say anything, but Yahaba felt the guilt rolling off of him in waves. _At least he feels sorry,_ Yahaba thought viciously, and then took it back. _He’s still new, he’s not used to my bad luck._

He shook his head and walked to the bar, Kyoutani a half-step behind him. He walked up to the bar and slid behind it, bypassing Akaashi, who was leaning over and talking to a spiky-haired, depressed-looking guy whose hand was wrapped up tight in a bandanna. Yahaba shoved a handful of ice into a dish towel and gently pressed it onto his wrist. 

“You never get ice. What happened?” Akaashi asked, sapphires glinting in his ears as he reached around Yahaba for a glass. 

“Got grabbed,” Yahaba answered, tipping his wrist to show the angry marks to Akaashi, who hissed in sympathy. 

“Lots of injuries tonight, it seems,” he said, jerking his head towards the spiky-haired guy moping at the bar. “He burned his hand, and just had a fight with his friend.” He motioned to his cheekbone, and Yahaba saw a bruise on spiky-hair’s cheek. 

Yahaba winced. “Ouch. Well, I can’t promise this towel’ll make it back to you, but I’ll try.” 

“Nah, don’t worry about it. You’d better get back to your guard dog, he’s starting to look a little antsy,” Akaashi teased, shooing Yahaba out of his way. 

Yahaba clicked his tongue. “Night, Akaashi.” 

Akaashi waved his hand, and Yahaba snorted as he watched him put a bottle of whiskey in sad spiky-hair’s reach. He made his way back to Kyoutani, who was waiting patiently for him. He showed the ice to him and was given a nod of approval in return. 

“I asked Iwaizumi, he said you’ve made enough tonight that you can go home a little early to take care of the wrist. Just have to come in earlier tomorrow,” Kyoutani said, once again a half-step behind him as he made his way to the dressing rooms. 

Yahaba nodded. “I figured, yeah. You’ll have your work cut out for you tonight. Five bucks says those two are waiting outside to stalk me home.” 

“I’m not gonna bet on your safety,” Kyoutani said, yanking his dressing room door open. 

Yahaba looked him up and down. “I still wanna know if they’re brave enough, so follow at a distance and see if they try anything. And you’ll bet eventually. It’s a running joke at this point.” 

He stepped into his dressing room and closed the door in Kyoutani and his angry eyebrows. It’d been a while since someone had cared enough about his safety to not like his joking around about all the incidents. This whole having a bodyguard thing was definitely going to be interesting. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Twenty minutes later, Yahaba was leaving his dressing room, having wiped all his makeup off and changed into his jeans and hoodie. Kyoutani stood up straighter, removed the walkie talkie from his belt and passed it to Yahaba, who stared blankly at it. “What?” 

“Matsukawa said I could keep that in your dressing room since we’ll be leaving and arriving together.” 

“Oh, did he?” Yahaba said, leaning back into his room and setting the walkie talkie on the counter next to the door - clicking it into place on the charger stand Matsukawa had placed in there months ago - before firmly shutting it. “Alright, I’m ready.” 

“Are you sure you want me to stay back?” Kyoutani asked, eyebrows furrowed. 

“So you can see exactly what you’re dealing with? Yeah. As long as you don’t stay too far behind, I’ll be fine. And I can fight back a little on my own, especially since I’m off the clock.” 

Kyoutani sucked at his teeth for a second, glaring at Yahaba. “Fine.” 

Yahaba pushed out the back door first, motioning for Kyoutani to wait a little bit, and walked down the alley, hands shoved in his pockets. He’d made it out of the alley and halfway down the street before someone grabbed his upper arm and yanked him into a different alley, a hand over his mouth keeping him from shouting out to alert Kyoutani or any passerby. 

_Son of a bitch,_ he thought, as a disgustingly familiar voice said, “Well, look what the cat dragged in.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hehe <3 
> 
> BONUS POINTS IF U KNOW WHO SPIKY SAD BOI IS !!!!


	2. same dark eyes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ah haha its me

Bright lights were the first thing Yahaba registered when he opened his eyes. Squinting, he groaned and lifted his hand to block out the light, only to feel a twinge in the back of his hand. He blinked a few times to adjust his eyes to the harsh lights, and looked at his hand. He couldn’t help the gasp that slipped out when he saw the IV secured to his hand, and the hospital band fastened loosely around his wrist. A hand reached over his head and he jerked away, a terrified shriek leaving his throat at the sudden appearance. 

Yahaba’s head spun and pain shot through it as he snapped it around to see Kyoutani hovering next to the bed, his hands fluttering around nervously. “Sorry, sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you, I’m sorry. Are you awake? I’m gonna call for the nurse,” he said, and slowly leaned over and pressed the button on the bed. Yahaba nodded, then winced. 

Kyoutani moved his hand towards Yahaba’s forehead and then snatched it back when the nurse knocked on the door, stepping into the room. 

“Hi! Kyoutani-san, you must’ve called. Glad to see you awake, Yahaba-san! I’m Minato Rei, I’ll be your nurse today. How’re we feeling?” she asked, removing the stethoscope and a cuff from her pocket and walking over to Yahaba’s bed. “May I touch you to check your vitals?”

Yahaba nodded, and winced again as his head twinged with pain. Rei clicked her tongue softly. “Try not to move your head too much, honey, you’ve got a concussion.” 

“A concussion? How did that happen?” he asked, trying to remember when he could’ve possibly hit his head hard enough to get a concussion. Did he smack it turning a corner too fast? Did he slip on stage? What happened? 

Kyoutani cleared his throat. “Do you… not remember what happened? After your shift?” 

Yahaba scrunched his eyebrows together and made a sound of confusion in his throat. “No? I don’t remember leaving work.” 

Kyoutani swallowed. “Do you remember your shift?” 

Yahaba thought about it and nodded. “I remember everything up to talking to Akaashi and getting ice.” 

Kyoutani’s eyes flicked over to Rei, who tilted her head and then stepped away from the bed, taking the clipboard with her, and flipping through it. Kyoutani lowered his voice and sat down in the chair that was next to Yahaba’s bed. “So you remember the reason you had to get the ice? The guys we kicked out?”

“Yeah? What about them?” 

Kyoutani’s hand clenched around the bar of the bed. “But you don’t remember getting grabbed in the alley on your way out.” He wouldn’t make eye contact with Yahaba. 

Yahaba’s memory was frustratingly blank, and that terrified him. “No,” he whispered, eyes widening. “I don’t remember that.” 

Kyoutani inhaled sharply. “You were grabbed into the alley next to the club, and by the time I got there you were unconscious on the ground and one of the guys was — He was leaning over you. I fought him off — ” 

“You let him touch me in the first place,” Yahaba hissed, fear swirling with anger and frustration. “Where were you? Why weren’t you doing your job?” 

Kyoutani clenched his jaw.

Yahaba scoffed at him, angry at his silence. “At least you brought me here. At least your head worked for that.” 

“I’m sorry,” Kyoutani said, and Rei cleared her throat. 

“Kyoutani-san? If you could step out for a moment while I take Yahaba-san’s vitals and do my assessment. Also the officer is back to talk to you again, I took the liberty of calling him.” 

Kyoutani stood up slowly, and left the room, glancing back at Yahaba once before stepping out and pulling the door closed behind him. Rei waited for the door to click, and then began to bustle about, taking Yahaba’s vitals and asking him soft questions. 

“Would you mind speaking to the officer, Yahaba-san?” she asked, scribbling down notes on the clipboard. Taking vitals, he assumed. God, his head hurt. 

“No, I don’t mind. I won’t be able to give him much,” Yahaba said, “besides maybe a description. Kyoutani apparently knows more than me.” 

Rei smiled softly and set the clipboard down. “Your vitals are stable. I’m gonna call the officer in and you can go from there. Make sure to call us if you need anything” 

“Yeah, I’ll try,” he murmured.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Talking to the officer was a total bust. Yahaba couldn’t remember anything other than talking to Akaashi, and Officer Sawamura wouldn’t tell him what Kyoutani had told him, saying something along the lines of “confidentiality,” which pissed Yahaba off enough that he spent the entire car ride to Kyoutani’s apartment - he was to stay there for safety reasons, until the guys who’d attacked him and Kyoutani had been caught - pouting in the passenger seat. He refused to speak a word to Kyoutani beyond an “I don’t care” when asked what he’d like for dinner. He shut himself in the guest room Kyoutani told him he’d be using, and didn’t come out until he needed to use the bathroom. 

He almost stepped on the tray with a rice bowl and some fried chicken outside the door, and caught a glimpse of Kyoutani whipping around the corner into his little kitchen when he picked up the tray. He set it down on the bed and ate every last grain of rice and crumb of chicken before silently taking the tray into the kitchen. Kyoutani nodded at the empty tray and handed him a glass of ice water. 

“Drink that before you go back to your room.” 

Yahaba contemplated dumping it out on the floor, and dropping the glass cup on the floor, but decided that that would be too much energy, and he’d rather not risk making Kyoutani mad seeing as he had to fucking live with the guy. He raised the glass to his lips and took a couple sips before his body realized  _ hey… we’re fucking thirsty…  _ and he managed to gulp down the rest of it. Hesitantly, he held out the glass to Kyoutani. 

“Could I have another one please?” he whispered, and felt his stomach untwist a little when Kyoutani’s face relaxed and he nodded, taking the glass gently from Yahaba, and refilling it. 

Yahaba went through three glasses that way, and half of a fourth one before he felt better. His head still hurt, and he told Kyoutani as much, and was immediately herded into the guest room. 

“Sleep. What do you want for breakfast?” 

Yahaba shrugged, pulling the blanket up to his chin. “Eggs are good. Maybe some toast or something.”

Kyoutani grunted, closing the door as he stepped out, and turning the light out. 

  
  
  


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  
  
  


_ The hand over his mouth tightened as he was yanked deeper into the alley. “Where’s your guard dog now, pretty boy?” the voice hissed.  _

Yahaba jerked awake with a scream, panting in a cold sweat. What the fuck had that been? Where was he? 

The door slammed open, and Yahaba yelped again, heart pounding as Kyoutani burst into the room, a katana (a  _ katana,  _ of all things), in hand, in just his underwear.    
  
_ Fuck,  _ Yahaba thought,  _ there’s someone in here, something’s wrong.  _ His heart skipped a beat, as Kyoutani swept around the room. Yahaba curled up into himself, knees tucked tight under his chin, as Kyoutani whirled to face him. “Are you okay?” Kyoutani said, lowering the katana and stepping closer to Yahaba. “You screamed.”

Yahaba’s throat went tight, and he just shook his head at Kyoutani. He managed to get out, “Nightmare,” before breaking down into sobs, frustrated with himself and the situation. 

Kyoutani hummed, and set the katana on the floor, and kneeled next to the bed. “I’m here. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.” 

Yahaba sobbed until he couldn’t cry anymore, and when he was done, Kyoutani had another water glass for him, and let Yahaba watch silently as he checked the windows and shined a light in the closet and under the bed. “Just in case,” he’d said, and Yahaba appreciated that he understood a part of Yahaba’s anxiety. 

When Yahaba nodded that he felt a little better, Kyoutani turned the lamp on the night table off, picked up his katana -  _ his fucking katana _ \- and gently touched the headboard of the bed as he left the room. 

“I’m across the hall if you need me,” he murmured, and clicked the light off. The door clicked shut, and for the first time in… a very long time, Yahaba felt a strange, warm sensation settle in his chest, making it all the more easy to slip into sleep. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i know this took forever but my entire existence got flipped on its head in the span of three months so, here we are,,,,,,,,, i promise i haven't abandoned this story i PROMISE


End file.
